by Ramesh Menon
“The host of heaven, it is told, Rama, stretched from the Nandana, which is just below Amravati, to the eastern mountain Udaya. The Lokapalas fought upon that mountain. Ravana’s sarathy flitted like a fiendish thought through the legions of rakshasas, gandharvas, charanas, and the rest. Indra saw the Rakshasa coming, and cried to his Devas, ‘Ravana cannot be killed. Let us take him captive and hold him instead!’
“From the north, the Demon plowed his way deep into the Deva army, as he would violate a woman. From the south, Indra thrust his way into the rakshasa army. After a hundred bloody yojanas, the two came face to face. Seeing his forces decimated by the Rakshasa, Indra attacked him with such ferocity Ravana was forced to retreat.
“A great cry went up from the other rakshasas and the Asuras: ‘We are undone!’
“Meghanada watched all this, quivering with ire. He jumped into his chariot and, using his tamasi maya, flew into the fray invisibly, sowing death all around him. The Deva army scattered like straws in a gale. Meghanada flew at Indra himself, and the Lord of the Devas could not see his adversary for the maya he was cloaked in, which was Siva’s boon to the rakshasa prince.
“Indra saw just the storm of arrows Meghanada loosed at him, the storm that smashed his chariot in shards and wounded Matali. Indra fled the field. He returned to battle, now mounted on his white elephant Airavata, who trod air.
“Still, Meghanada’s maya was beyond him. He could neither penetrate its opacity nor catch a glimpse of his assailant. Indra felt dizzy from the deluge of arrows that fell on him from the sky; the torrent of arrows that besieged him from every side; the geysers of arrows that rose from below him when he took to the air.
“Indra felt himself being bound by inexorable hoops of power. He felt himself being made fast by Meghanada, master of maya; and the king of the Devas, the Lord of the immortals of Devaloka, Master of the elements, was helpless to resist the rakshasa prince’s sorcery. In a daze, in disbelief, Indra allowed himself to be snatched from his elephant’s back by immaterial fingers, to a remote corner of the war.
“Meanwhile, Ravana fought like an aksauhini of demons, by himself, and faced the Adityas and the Vasus. But those Devas contained the Rakshasa effortlessly: they drove him back with shining valor. For the first time ever, Meghanada saw his proud father shamed on the field. He saw him uncertain and fumbling at his bow. That prince called across the field to Ravana, ‘Father, come away: the war is won! Indra is my captive. Rule the three worlds as you please, my lord. You are their only sovereign now.’
“When the Adityas and the Vasus heard Meghanada, they laid down their weapons and fought no more. Ravana rode up to his magnificent son and clasped him in his arms. He cried, ‘You are the savior of our race!’
“He cast a triumphant glance at Indra, held fast in the shimmering coils of Meghanada’s astra. Ravana said, ‘Meghanada, my heroic child, take your captive home to Lanka. I will follow you with Prahastha, Maricha, and the others’
“The victorious Meghanada came home to a delirious reception from his people. Women and children lined the streets, when they heard who it was that their prince had brought as his prisoner. Not a rakshasa or rakshasi stayed home. The old and infirm had themselves carried out to celebrate this impossible victory of their king and his son, their own incredible victory: the triumph of the race of the rakshasas, the firstborn race of creation.”
18. Brahma intervenes
“The Devas came in disarray to Brahma and told him how Meghanada had taken Indra captive. Brahma went with the Devas to Lanka. Like a four-faced sun he appeared in the sky over the city of the rakshasas, and, in a voice of ages, said to Ravana, ‘Your son has truly made you Lord of the three worlds. He is your equal, Rakshasa; perhaps he is even greater than you are. For what he has done today, I name him Indrajit and the worlds shall know him by that name from now.
“‘But Indrajit, you must not incur the sin of holding the king of Devaloka a prisoner. Look, the Devas have come here with me; they are willing to pay you whatever price you ask to release Indra.’
“Without a moment’s hesitation, Indrajit replied, ‘Give me immortality and I will release the Deva!’
“Brahma said, ‘There is no immortality for any of the living. Why, when my time comes, I myself will die.’
“Indrajit grew thoughtful. Slowly, he said, ‘I will accept another boon from you, Pitamaha. Whenever I go out to battle, I worship Agni. Let a chariot of power emerge from the flames, and as long as I sit in that chariot, let me not die. If, however, I fail to worship Agni before I go out to fight, then I may be killed, if there is a warrior who can kill me.’
“Brahma said, ‘So be it.’
“Indrajit spoke an ancient and secret mantra. The coils of the astra that held Indra vanished, and the king of the Devas was free. How miserable that splendid God was, how utterly vanquished in spirit: that a rakshasa stripling had conquered him, shamed him, marched him, the Lord of the Devas, through the streets of Lanka. Even death could hardly be worse than this. And now, their mission fulfilled, the other Devas flew up into heaven. But Indra could not ascend. He was leaden; his body had turned gross.
“He stood mute, with his head hung before his Father, Brahma the Creator, in a jungle in the world. Finally, the Deva said in a whisper, ‘Pitamaha, what happened today? How was I, Indra, king of the Devas, defeated in battle?’
“Brahma’s eyes were full of deep memories. He said gently, ‘My son, you have forgotten an old sin you once committed. You have forgotten Ahalya and the Rishi Gautama’s curse.’
“Indra shuddered to remember. He had lain with the rishi’s perfect wife, who was like a tongue of fire, and the sage had cursed him. Gautama had cursed Indra to show a thousand organs of lust upon his body, because this was the first time in creation that sin had been committed and Indra was its perpetrator. Thereafter men, too, would commit this mother of every other sin, and the worlds would decay in time, through the four yugas.
“After Indra had performed a searing penance, Brahma had mitigated the curse, so Indra had a thousand eyes upon his body instead of a thousand phalluses. But Gautama had also cursed Indra that half the sin of every adultery committed in the world would accrue to him, for being the first adulterer; the other half would be borne by those that committed the sin. And this would weaken his power, until, one day, he would fall into an enemy’s hands in battle. Gautama had also said the throne of Devaloka would never be secure from then: Indra would often be driven from heaven, and some Asura or other would rule in his place.
“Ahalya had been the first perfect, and perfectly beautiful, woman. But when she sinned, all the world shared her beauty and there were other women as lovely as she. And of course, you know, Rama, that Gautama cursed her to be a heap of dust in their asrama, until your blue feet touched her, and she was forgiven her sin and reunited with her husband.
“Brahma said again, ‘Indra, do you remember the sin you committed that turned all the ages dark? This is your punishment.’
“Indra whispered, ‘Pitamaha, how can I be rid of the curse? How can I rise into Devaloka again?’
“‘Perform a yagna in the name of Vishnu and you shall ascend from the very yagnashala.’
“Tears filled the Deva’s eyes. He said, ‘Pitamaha, my son Jayanta is dead.’
“Brahma said, ‘No, Puloma has hidden him under the sea. Jayanta will return to you when you have performed the yagna.’
“With that, Brahma vanished. Indra performed the Vishnu yagna, and as soon as the last mantra was chanted and the last oblation offered into the sacred fire, he felt a pulsing and ecstatic radiance enfold him. He felt the grossness he had acquired in defeat melt into that blue and loving illumination. His body purified into a form of light, once more Indra flew up into Devaloka. He ruled from the throne in Amravati again.
“And so it is, Rama, the wise say that Indrajit was greater than Ravana. For in battle it was not the father but the son who conquered the Deva king. But however that
may be, after Indra himself was vanquished, who else in creation would dare stand against the might of Ravana of Lanka?
“And so, ever since, Ravana was Master of the three worlds: of Swarga, Bhumi, and Patala. All their denizens, all their greatest monarchs, paid the Evil One homage. They sent him tribute, lest he come again to their kingdoms with his dreadful legions.”
19. Ravana worships Siva
But now Rama asked the Muni Agastya in mild surprise, “O jewel among all the twice-born, were the kshatriyas of the earth all cowards, then, that they allowed Ravana to tame them and rule them so easily?”
Agastya smiled. “Once, during his endless campaigns, Ravana arrived at the gates of a splendid city of men called Mahishmati. Mahishmati in the world was said to be no less magnificent than Amravati in heaven. The king of Mahishmati was called Arjuna, and his clan was the Haihaya. Arjuna was a bhakta of Agni Deva, and with the Fire God’s blessing Mahishmati became a wonder upon the earth. In return, Arjuna always kept the sacred agni burning in a great pit and the agnikunda filled with kusa grass.
“The day Ravana came to Mahishmati, Arjuna of the Haihayas had gone with his women to the Narmada, to bathe and to sport.
“Ravana said to Arjuna’s ministers, ‘I have heard your king is the mightiest kshatriya in the world. I have come seeking battle with him. Where is he?’
“But the ministers, who were wise men, replied that they did not know where Arjuna was, nor when he would return. Ravana took himself to the Vindhya mountains of a thousand peaks, mantled with emerald forests and infested with lions and other beasts, of whom the tawny ones are the lords. When rivers fell here in cascades, from sheer summits, they seemed to utter a horse laugh!
“Devas, gandharvas, apsaras, and kinnaras came to the Vindhya to sport and to make love, and the mountain that stood rooted like Anantashesa with his thousand hoods—the peaks, and the mountain streams were his forked tongues—seemed truly like a piece of Swarga fallen into Bhumi below.
“Ravana sought the greatest river that flowed down the Vindhyachala, the blessed Narmada, which made its shimmering way into the western sea. It was a warm day, and he saw bison, elephants, herds of deer, bears, and lions quenching their thirst at different pools along the Narmada’s course. He saw the rippling currents laden with goose, duck, ibis, teal, and every sort of water bird, some that had flown across the earth to arrive here.
“The river was crowned with a crest of trees in full bloom. Her breasts were two flocks of chakravakas; sandbanks were her hips, floating swans her girdle; her limbs were anointed with brilliant pollens, as if with the paste of the sandalwood tree. Full-blown lotuses were the eyes of the Narmada.
“Ravana saw her from above and was seized by a compulsion to bathe in her; he felt it would be like being embraced by a Goddess. He flew down in his petal-quiet vimana, with his ministers, and sat on the banks of the holy and beautiful river. Sitting there on velvet moss, enchanted, he murmured in adoration, ‘Ah, she is the Ganga!’ Then he turned to Suka and Sarana, who sat closest to their king. ‘Look, the sun has dimmed himself in reverence to see me. He who sears the earth has turned mild as the moon to see Ravana.’
“He seemed to be carried away in this vein. ‘Can you feel how Vayu the wind blows gently around us, for fear of me? And, despite the birds, fish, and crocodiles she bears on her currents, even the river seems like a timid young girl before me. My friends, you bear upon your bodies the blood of a hundred kings of the earth, each of whom would vie with Indra in might. Even as the Diggajas do in the Akasaganga, bathe now in this lovely Narmada. She will take your sins from you, my rakshasas. I, too, shall offer worship to my Lord Siva in her waters’
“Prahastha, Mahodara, Suka, Sarana, Dhrumraksha, and all his other ministers entered the clear river, and she quivered with their virile presences even as the Ganga does when the elephants that bear creation upon their backs bathe in the golden river of the north. When they had finished their ablutions, the rakshasas fetched flowers for their king, for his worship. Soon there was another small mountain of resonant blossoms piled high on the sandbank, which shone like a white cloud lit by the noon sun.
“Then, Ravana himself waded into the lucid flow, just as the lord of the elephants enters the Ganga: majestically and last of all. He offered flowers on the water; he chanted the Gayatri mantra a thousand times; he dipped his head under the cool, clear flow. When he had finished this purifying ritual, he stepped out, set aside his wet clothes, and put on a white silk robe.
“Ravana offered more flowers to a golden Sivalinga he had brought with him and now installed in an altar of sand. He anointed it with the finest sandalwood paste. Then he raised his hands to heaven and sang and danced with abandon to Siva, who removes the suffering of the virtuous and bestows the greatest boons.
“As Ravana danced, so did his rakshasas, like swaying mountains. For all their girth and bulk, they were surprisingly graceful, and their worship was soulful and queerly elegant.
* * *
“Now it happened that quite near, and downstream from where the invincible Rakshasa offered his flowers on the water, great Arjuna of Mahishmati, the son of Kritavirya, sported in the Narmada with his women. He stood in the swirling current like a bull elephant among his cows.
“Arjuna was a thousand-armed kshatriya, and to show off his awesome strength to his women, he stretched all thousand arms out across the gushing river, bank to bank. Soon the water no longer flowed: Kartaviryarjuna’s arms arrested its tide like a dam. The river rose in one place and then flowed back upstream, laden with fish, tortoises, and crocodiles, and with copious armfuls of kusa grass and the flowers of Ravana’s worship.
“In that unnatural flood, the water swept back toward where Ravana was at his worship. Ravana’s eyes turned red as poppies. He glared at the river as if he were gazing at one of his wives being enjoyed by another man. The birds were calm enough in their trees; the elements seemed at peace. He could find no reason why the water flooded back to him.
“Ravana was forced to abandon his incomplete worship. He spoke no word, only pointed a long and imperious finger downstream; he looked at Suka and Sarana, that they should investigate what or who had dared interrupt him. The river flowed west, and Suka and Sarana set their faces in that direction and rose into the air.
“When they had flown just a few moments, and half a yojana, they saw a thousand-armed kshatriya playing in the water with his women. He was as great as a sala tree. The river swelled round him, tossed his hair on its transparent currents like moss, then flowed back from him, as if in fear of that warrior. Suka and Sarana hung invisibly in the air. They saw that the kshatriya in the river was formidable, his eyes red-rimmed, his body hard as rock, his every movement proclaiming that he was a great king, never to be trifled with.
“Suka and Sarana flashed away, still unseen, back to their master. They flew down before Ravana and said breathlessly, ‘Lord, there is a man we do not know in the river, half a yojana downstream. He is as tall as a sala tree and his arms are countless, even like the branches of a tree. He has a thousand women around him, and to amuse them he has spread his arms like a dam across the Narmada. And she cannot flow past him, but breaks her banks as if in terror and flows back toward us.’
“Ravana growled, ‘It is Kartaviryarjuna.’
“At once he set off down the flooding river, hungry for a fight. The wind rose and howled around the Lord of the rakshasas, blowing up a pall of dust. In moments, dark clouds filled the sky, shook with thunder and lightning, and poured down a drizzle of blood. Bright as antimony in the fallen gloom, Ravana arrived at the recalcitrant pool on the river, which Arjuna had created with his thousand arms.
“In a voice like ten peals of thunder, Ravana said to the kshatriya’s ministers, ‘Tell your king, Haihayas, that Ravana of Lanka has come to seek battle with him.’
“The ministers replied, ‘You are a shrewd judge of the time to fight, O Ravana, that you have come when our king is drunk and s
porting with his women. You come like a cunning tiger, which chooses to attack a bull elephant when he is in rut, among his cows. We say to you, Rakshasa, if you are a man of honor remain here with us tonight, and tomorrow our king will fight you. But if you are impatient and must fight at once, you must face us first, because we will not let you pass to our king.’
“And they drew their swords and stood defiantly before Ravana and his rakshasas. That battle did not last more than a few moments before the Haihayas were all slain and most of them eaten by the demons from Lanka, who by now were hungry. More ministers and soldiers from Kartaviryarjuna’s camp came rushing to face Ravana. They poured in like an angry sea, from every side, loosing tides of fierce missiles at the marauders.
“The Haihayas drew first blood; but then, roaring to shake the mountain, Prahastha, Maricha, Suka, Sarana, and the other great rakshasas began to cut them down, so the flooding Narmada was tinted with their dark gore. The rakshasas still ate their adversaries, as they fought on.
“Some of Arjuna’s soldiers fled the battle in the forest and went flying to their king, at languorous love in the river. They babbled out their story and he came out slowly from the water. He said to his women, in perfect calm, ‘Do not be afraid.’
“Kartaviryarjuna’s eyes were slits of copper. His anger flared up like the fire at the end of the yugas, which consumes the world. He picked up a mace and set out to hunt the rakshasas. Arjuna of the Haihayas scattered the rakshasa front lines as the sun does the night’s darkness at dawn. He came among them like a twisting tempest, the mace in his hands striking out in every direction, felling a thousand demons each moment.
“Then Prahastha loomed in his path like another Vindhya, with what seemed to be a great pestle in his hand. Roaring like death, Prahastha cast the occult weapon at Arjuna; as it flew at him its tip burned with a mysterious red fire, formed like an asoka flower. But Arjuna flung his own mace at that weapon: he flung it with five hundred arms! The two ayudhas exploded against each other. Kartaviryarjuna still held a mace in his hands, and he rushed at the astonished Prahastha and struck him a blow like doom on his head. Like a bull struck by Indra’s vajra, Ravana’s Senapati crumpled.